For you, I would crossdress
by Sky-Pirate-Tat
Summary: Ryou loves Malik, problem is Malik is straight. Would Ryou REALLY go as far as crossdressing to win the Egyptian's heart? KilledDiscontinued (Sorry)
1. Hurtful Obsession

A/N: Hey! It's a new fic and my last in the Yu-Gi-Oh! Category. Please enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!

For You, I Would Cross-dress

By Tat Claire Kokoro

Chapter 1: Hurtful Obsession

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The more you like him… the more you LOVE him…

The bigger and bigger his place in your life becomes…

And the bigger the hole in your heart when you lose him…

—Keiichi (Ah! My Goddess!)

Creamy mocha-colored skin, feathery beach-blond locks, and bright amethyst eyes lined with black kohl… Dreamily I stare at my love interest.

It's bad enough that he pays visits to my house, stalks around Kame Game Shop, and sees me during business meetings (my dad work with Isis's museum sometimes). But now school?! Sweet Goddess… how am I going to concentrate?

That Egyptian is getting more attention from me than the equations on my test paper.

"Pencils down, pass your papers to the front," the teacher says. I glumly stare at my paper and pass it up.

I glare at Malik Ishtar. If only he were still home-schooled, if only he wasn't so damn sexy, if only… I didn't love him…

It's useless, I know. He said it himself—"I actually prefer girls."

Damn! How did I get myself into this mess? Sure, he's hot, I'll give him points for that. But what do I find so attractive on the inside?

Annoying, selfish, rude, arrogant… and his mood swings are outrageous. One minute he'll be sitting on the couch about to fall asleep and the next he's like a demented version of the energizer bunny.

What's attractive?! Is it the fact he can do everything I don't dare?

I'm a quiet sort of person, preferring books over making new friends, while Malik is loud, causing chaos to all humanity. Friend or enemy, it doesn't matter, he'll find some way to annoy you.

And if we go to an amusement park, I stay close to the food stands and game booths, unless Malik drags me to one of his favorite rides—a rollercoaster.

Yeah… maybe that's it, because he's my opposite. Well whatever the reason, it's never going to happen…

When school is over for today I stood by the old sakura tree to wait for Yugi and company. I wish Yugi wouldn't insist on us all walking home together; I never feel comfortable around his friends. They always give me suspicious looks.

"Konnichiwa!" Yugi greets me, a goofy grin on his face. Honda and Jounouchi drag out their greeting dully, and Anzu is trying too hard to sound happy to see me.

"Konnichiwa…" I say back glumly. I'll never fit into his group. No one except Yugi finds me 'normal.'

Now that we're together, we start home. Anzu is first to leave. But as usual, Jounouchi HAS TO lift her skirt up, resulting in the blonde getting beaten.

Next is Honda; he lives a couple blocks from Anzu.

"Hey! Stop following us!" Jounouchi yells over his shoulder. Yugi and I both turn in curiosity—the one following us is Malik.

Sweet Goddess of Mercy, is it not enough you're at my house, Kame Game Shop, the museum, AND school?! Now you have to stalk us, Malik?!?

"I'm not following you!" the sexy Egyptian shouts back.

"Then where are you going?"

"Wherever you're going."

"Arrrgh!!!" Jounouchi growls under his breath.

Yugi pats his back. "Go on ahead of us."

On instinct, Jounouchi protests, "But Yugi—"

"I'll be fine. If anything happens Yami will handle it."

Jounouchi nods and quietly leaves. Neither Malik no Yugi and I speak until Jounouchi is a dot on the road.

"Sorry to bug ya."

"No, it's all right." Yugi smiles. "What do you want?"

Malik thrusts a handful of fliers in our faces. We silently take them and read:

/_DOMINO MOTORCYCLE RACE!_

Come and cheer our riders as they put their pedals to da metal on one of Japan's greatest race courses!

Time: April 5th 7:30 P.M./

I glance up at Malik, who gave a fanged smile. "Will you come?"

"Are you… going… to race?" I ask with a quiver in my voice.

"Yep!" The smile on his lips widens.

"I'll come." Yugi carefully folds his flyer and stuffs it in his pocket.

Now Malik is staring my way, expecting me to say the same. Goddess… I'd love to see him burn those other bikers into the dust…

Damn, stop looking at me… especially this close! You're so close, Malik, that I can smell the musky cologne on you… our lips are so close…

"I'm… I'm busy tonight," I blubber out. Truthfully, I'm not busy, but I fear that if I continue seeing Malik I won't be able to hold in my emotions.

He frowns. "Shame. I NEED a cheerleader." Then he turned heel, hands shoved in pockets and still looking at me fixedly over his shoulder. "Ja ne."

"Why'd you do that, Ryou?!" Yugi looks at me, concerned.

"Do what?"

"Refuse to come. You told me this morning you weren't busy."

I gulp. Please… please don't figure it out, Yugi.

There's a dead silence between us. Yugi take one look at me and he knows who I'm constantly thinking about, constantly drooling about, constantly hoping for a relationship that never will be.

"You like him, don't you?"

There's no way out of this one; if I lie Yugi can tell. He can easily read people.

"I've heard he's straight," the tri-color-haired teen stated. "But you STILL have a chance." Another grin settles on his face.

This isn't good… he ONLY smiles THAT way when he's scheming up some hijinked plan…

"Mind if I come home with you?"

When Yugi reaches my house he can hardly contain himself. His shoes are already off as I take out my keys and unlock the door.

"Yugi… can you tell me whatever it is you're planning?! And what do you mean I STILL have a chance with Malik?!"

Scampering into my house, Yugi avoids the question by asking me his own. "Um… Your sister's clothes—you still have them, right?"

What do Amane's clothes have to do with this? …Whatever THIS is?

"Yeah, why?" I say uneasily.

"Well, think about it. You like Malik but he likes girls. Sooooo… ya cross-dress."

I back away. "Cr—crs—CROSS-DRESS!!!"

-No characters were harmed (physically) in the making of this fic. Tat is not responsible for any mental breakdowns.-


	2. Inside a ghost room

Thanks to: Kahtiihma, Anonymous, crystalshower, BishounenzAngel, Sozuki, lost complex, Ty8, ShinakaStar, R Amythest, Sailor Sun8, Kurayami Ryuu

A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. Without you guys this chapter would be wading in a good pile of dust.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!

For you I would Crossdress

By Tat Claire Kokoro

Chap 2. Inside a ghost room

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I look in the mirror and see your face

If I look deep enough

So many things inside that are

Just like you are taking over me . . .

-"Taking over me" (EvaneScence)

It's been four years since Amane died, and four years since I've entered her room. Nothing has been touched or moved from it's place, and the room still smells like vanilla, her trademark scent.

I've hardly taken one step inside and I already want to turn back. Yugi pats my back. "It's time, Ryou. You can't keep dwelling in the past."

The words give me no relief. This room IS a reminder of the past, a past I DON'T want to see again. So when I glance at the sky-blue walls, the canopy bed, and all Amane's trinkets, I feel younger. And disturbed.

I cautiously pull open a dresser drawer. The first thing catching my eye was her school uniform.

I hold up the uniform, all of its seams and frills still intact and the sweet smell of vanilla lingering in the cloth as if she was still there, as if just seconds ago she stored the uniform in the dresser after a long day in class.

I closed my eyes, clasping onto a sudden wisp of memory . . .

/. _. .My sister was walking me to school, one hand holding mine, the other a briefcase._

"Onnesan, I wanna go to High School with you."

Amane gave a half-smile. "We've been over this for years, Ryou. I have to go to my own class, same goes for you. 'Sides, it's only six hours without me . . ."

"Six hours?!" I squeaked. "That's too long!"

She ruffled my hair, giggling. "Is six hours really that long, Ryou-chan. . .?"/

"Hey!" Yugi nudges me, "Are you all right?"

I nod. "Let's get this over with."

I take a package of girl's panties (never been opened) under one arm, hang stockings on the other, and hold carefully Amane's school uniform. I dump the contents on her bed, putting each item on one at a time.

When I finish, I stand before the mirror. It surprises me that I look like a girl—well… except for the lack of breasts.

Other than that everything is flawless. My face is naturally feminine so no makeup is needed, my legs are quite shapely, and my hair past shoulder length.

"Bust. You need some bust." Yugi hands me a bra and two… er… water balloons…

I blink some before taking off the top half of my outfit, and putting the bra on, then filling it in with my water balloons. Again, I take another glance in the looking glass.

"Are you sure about this, Yugi? I don't want to deceive Malik."

"Hey, you HAVE to make sacrifices to get what you want. Miss this chance and you'll end up blaming yourself for not trying later."

"And if I do choose to make this sacrifice and Malik finds out I'll make a nice wall hanging in his room."

The spiky-haired one leans back. "It's still worth it."

He runs a comb through my hair. "Why don't you let me braid it?"

I barely nod. Yugi is already twisting my strands. Meanwhile I imagine either becoming Malik's new wall plaque or his new lover.

Motorcycle racing used to be uninteresting to me. I never understood how motorbikes running round and round amused people. Wouldn't it make you dizzy? Watching that for how long…?

Yet now I kinda do like motorcycles, thanks to Malik. When I walk by a motorcycle shop or see someone on a Harley I can imagine him examining the bike thoroughly. He could complain, "Not fast enough." Or he'd applaud, "Nice engine! Nope, won't die so quickly."

What I like the most about motorcycles? That it brings me and Malik closer (unfortunately only in a 'friendship' kind of way). Every week I go to his house, heading straight to the backyard. Sure enough, the Egyptian is sitting on the lawn fiddling with his prized set of wheels. Malik is the one who mostly talks. Our conversations are usually on motorcycles but sometimes it goes deeper.

To hear him talk about his past, all he's went through… no REAL childhood… without a mother… and an unwanted duty, it makes me want to shed his tears, the ones he bottles up inside.

"Everyone's looking at you, Ryou," Yugi mouths, "EVEN girls."

Cautiously, I take a peek around me. Yugi is right, people ARE looking. Right when I notice their stares they give a slight blush and turn away. My embarrassment fades. I thought it'd look obvious to others that I'm a guy. Within me now is pride. If I am a hit with these people surely Malik will find me… attractive.

We reach the track, and after inspecting several spots, pick the place closest to it.

"Hey there!" a blue-haired girl called out to me. She smiled sweetly. "Are ye waitin' for somebuddy?"

I back away. Even NOW girls are chasing me… Sweet Goddess, why can't they chase after the straight ones?

She frowns. "Eh…? Ye must be straight, sucha pity." Then she walks off.

After that I think no one else would try and pick me up. I am seriously mistaken. I spend half of the motorcycle race (lightly) smacking wandering hands or ignoring offers to lunch and 'a few drinks at my place'. Other than that, I enjoy the race, keeping an eye on #13, Malik's racing number.

He isn't doing so well. It seems as if his passion for biking has drained away. He has trouble with turns, speed, and most importantly, he isn't concentrating. For a long time he is in 5th place. 5th place?! Malik can certainly do better than that!

"Go Malik!" I cheer. "I know you can run their asses into the mud!"

Wait. I actually cheered? And did I just say something out of character? I'm normally the one who stands there, pointing out the obvious while everyone is cheering their cords out. (And I don't curse! I blame Tat.)

He must've heard my cheer, because right then he turns and looks STRAIGHT AT ME. My heart skips a beat. Can he tell it was me, Ryou? Regular ole' Ryou? Not this cheap imitation?

Whoever he thinks I am it sure gives him his passion for biking back. The dirty-blonde revs his bike up, shooting past and wedging through the other riders, making clean, professional turns along the way.

"—Oh my God! Folks, I don't know what caused #13 to suddenly make it into the lead! Was he HIGH earlier? Didn't get enough rest? (blah, blah, blah.)—"

"Whoa! He's on fire," Yugi breathes. "Is he like this all the time?"

"Yeah, he is."

At lightning speed, Malik passes the finish line. He gets off his bike and takes his helmet off, shaking the hair from his eyes. I'm about to slink back into the crowd, but Yugi, that meddler, pushes me right out into plain sight.

I try to move away but nobody else wants to move. They'd rather not be bothered during the glories.

"So Malik, who would you like to thank for winning this race?"

"That girl."

He lifts a finger and points at… ME. My pale complexion turns a series of reds, and the crowd pushes me in front of Malik. I advert my eyes shyly. "Er… Konnichiwa?"

"Don't be so timid," he leans close to my ear and whispers. "Meet me at the museum on Sunday, noon."

On my way back home I can't help but have a spring or two in my steps. A date with Malik! I can't believe it's not butter! (A/N: Inside joke)

I cheerily unlock the door. I'm too happy for words, too happy for my emotions to show anything more than a dopey grin and girlish giggles. I run up the stairs two at a time, and I'm about to shuck off these clothes and take a shower when Bakura peers out of our room. His reddish-brown eyes widen.

"A… Amane?"

-No characters were harmed (physical) in the making of this fic. Tat is not responsible for any mental breakdowns-


	3. Sorry for being so alike

A/N: Thanks to all who reviewed, sorry I don't have your names up, I lost them all in my email and I don't feel like scanning the review pages. Oh and by the way . . .this chapter sucks.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!

For you, I would crossdress

By Tat Claire Kokoro

Chap 3. Sorry for being so alike

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/I am looking for the key to escape to the lands of our dreams, and perhaps it is death./

-Alain-Fournier.

"Amane. . .?" Bakura strode toward me, his expression going from shock to a tender look. I didn't answer-I couldn't answer. My throat tightened, allowing only stale air to leave my mouth.

The next thing that happened appalled me. My dark, my other half . . .

He firmly took me by my shoulders, pulled me forward, and kissed me. KISSED. ME. I went rigid, there was nothing I could do. All I could do was wonder how Bakura knew my sister, especially this way. Their lives never collided. So why did he have these buried feelings for her?

He pulled back, worried. "What's wrong? C'mon, smile at me like you always did."

Always did? What's he talking about? They were never in the same timeline and my sister never smiled. . .much.

In desperation, I gave an uneasy smile.

"YOU aren't Amane." Bakura glowered, swiftly taking me by my braided hair. "Imposter! You think this is funny! Eh?" My yami threw me on the floor. "Eh?"

"Bakura. . .I . . .I. . ." I struggled to say.

"What?" He growls, flips me over. This time taking a good look, "What the fuck? Ryou?"

His eyes cross, making the , 'I'm not even going to ask' face. His anger has faded-I think.

With only a slight twist on the balls of his feet, he quietly leaves . . .as if nothing has happened. Bakura stops mid-step, reconsidering. "Don't tell anyone."

I uneasily reassure my dark. "Tell anyone what?"

We trade smiles, his strange, through his anger, maybe? Mine nervous.

Like a waterfall, cool water fell over my back. I pushed away the biting thoughts about Bakura and his fascination for my sister. I promised not to tell, and I promise not to think about it.

So now what can I think about? Baseball, sandwiches . . .Malik . . .Oh Malik . . .

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/"What's that about me, Ryou?" Tanned arms snaked their way around my body. His lips brushed against my earlobe.

"I. . .I. . .I I wanted you to scrub my back." I admitted, embarrassed.

Malik's tongue teased my ear. A shiver went through my body, then he bit me.

"Itai!!!!!!!!!!!!"/

"Itai!!!!!" I cried, and nursed my ear softly putting pressure on my wound, which was bleeding. Great.

"Nyo!"

I glared at my cat, Cunie, a calico with an obsession for cheese and Kurama plushies.

"We're out of cheese, Cunie-chan."

She made a face that I swore was a pout and fluffed out her tail. 'I WANT my cheese,' might've been what she said.

I turned off the shower and wrapped a towel around my waist. "I'll get some cheese . . ."

Cunie's pout turned into a Cheshire grin. She licked her chops appreciatively.

". . .TOMORROW." Said cat's appreciation turned into rage. All hr fur spiked out and she resembled a porcupine. Her muscles twitched, and hr claws were midway out.

I slowly closed the door. I'll let her vent her anger in there.

Bakura I supposed left. There wasn't any sign of him lurking around the house. I put my silky PJ's on and slipped into bed. Tomorrow would be a wonderful day . . .A date with Malik . . .

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/"Little One!" My sister called out to me, her eyes bright and arms stretched out. I looked down at her from the hill. She gestured for me to get down.

"Maaaaake meeeeee!" I pulled my lower eyelid down and stuck out my tongue.

"Oh!" She fake-scowled at me. Amane tucked a strand of silver behind her ear lifted her skirt up a little (to get it out of her way) and charged up the hill.

I stood there giggling as she pretended that climbing that hill was like climbing a mountain. She grunted. "Foul demon! Thou has wrecked my . . .er. . .furniture! Yeah! Thou has wrecked my furniture!"

"Furniture?"

"Don't play stupid, vile thing! Thy tricks cannot work on THIS gallant knight." My sister pointed to herself.

Now was my turn to act my part. "Do no overestimate yourself, pitiful knight." With my hands I pretended I threw orb of destruction.

She covered her face as if protecting her beauty from a cloud of rocks and wondering orbs. "You missed!"

Up she sprang, the hill no longer a mountain to her- just a minor annoyance. Before I had chance to flee from her she'd already caught me.

"The Lord of demons is captured!" Amane hugged, her way of expressing triumph. "Little One has no choice but to come home with his big sister now." Swiftly picking me up, she carried me home. During the short journey. I slept./

-No characters were harmed (physically) during the making of this fic. Tat is not responsible for mental breakdowns.-

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	4. Bitter Temptation

A/N: Sorry for the wait, been preoccupied lately by video games and homework and er. . .love troubles. But let's forget about that. Just enjoy the fic (even though it sucks. I personally like my original stories).

DISCLAIMER: As constantly mentioned, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

For you, I would Crossdress

By Tat Claire Kokoro

Chap 4. Bitter temptation

/_If the baby does no stop crying an screaming: it is Lamatsu "the kidnapper", hand of Ishtar, daughter of Anou./_

-Labat, T.D.P. [221,28]

I wake up late, ghosts still drifting through my mind in their slow way. With the ghosts walking from the daylight with my dreams, I try to grasp the ethereal strands of it. No such luck. Old Shut-eye has already snatched it from conscious.

I get out of bed and change into a pair of jeans and a simple white shirt. Boy's clothes. NOT girls.

Then I wobble down the stairs, my mind groggy and my legs wobbling like jello. Despite all this, I manage to make a quick breakfast of Eggo Waffles and a glass of milk.

The waffles taste bland, like there's something missing. I glance at the pantry. Shame, there's no syrup. Bakura ALWAYS makes a grab for the sugary mixture and drowns his waffles. Syrup or not, I eat the bland food, reminding myself bitterly to buy groceries today.

Most of my Saturdays are spent at school. But today is a holiday, leaving me with plenty of free time. I don't bother knocking on Malik's door. Like every Saturday his motorcycle is sprawled on the lawn, the dirty blonde leaning over it, either making improvements or fixing a loose screw.

I go around the backyard and sit next to him. He's unusually quiet. There's no "Hi Ryou!" Maybe he didn't notice me?

"Morning."

". . ." He continued tinkering.

I gave a dramatic sigh, and he turned around. "Sorry, I noticed you. It's just, I was trying to concentrate."

I carefully lean over his bike (making sure not to be in his way), "you must've been working her too hard for you to say you need to concentrate."

My crush sighed soulfully. "Poor KOS MOS. . ." He patted his set of wheels and went inside his house. I trailed behind him.

Once inside he takes his violet belly shirt off and flings it in a corner of the kitchen. Oh Goddess. . .I think I'm going to drool. Ur. . .I know I've seen him shirtless, in fact, I've EVEN seen him naked from time to time. But the effect it has on me is the same. Saliva drips (I think) down my chin while Malik makes a small trek to the fridge and takes a sip of his coconut juice.

Coconut juice is now dripping on his chin . . .

"Ryou, you're foaming at the mouth again. Are you SURE you don't have rabies?"

"I'm . . .I'm sure." I stutter, wiping the 'foam' off with the back of my hand.

"Well, I'm going to take quick shower." He hands me his can of coconut juice and hurries up the steps. "You can have the rest."

I stare at the can of juice. Is he serious? I take a small sip, the taste of coconut flooding my mouth. Is this what Malik tastes like now, coconut? I'm about to drink more when I hear yelling upstairs.

"Isis! Where's my rubber duckie?!"

"Oh that old thing? I threw it away."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! How am I going to sing the 'Rubber Duckie' song without 'Mr. Squeaky'?!" Malik wails dramatically. I sweatdrop. This is one of those days where I desperately ask the Goddess. "Why?! Why THIS psycho?"

"You can sing the Rubber Duckie song without it."

"No I can't!"

"Do I HAVE to get up there and bathe you myself?!" Isis growls.

"Get Mr. Squeaky and you won't have to."

"Ugh. . ." she says disgusted, "it's your damn squeaky duck. You get it."

"I would . . .IF I WAS the ONE who THREW it AWAY!!!!"

Long, disturbing silence. A minute later the house is filled with Arabic curses and more yelling. As soon as the argument is stared it's stopped. I hear the faint sound of water running and the screech of the showerhead. For once I don't hear Malik's voice belting out the lyrics to the Rubber Duckie song.

I set the can of juice on the table, and decide to go into Malik's room. His shower may take awhile.

I always looked over my shoulder when in Malik's room. There was something about it. . .like the atmosphere, the aura changed.

What was different about this room? When you entered, it was like going through ancient temple doors, the smell of long burnt out incense loitered in the air and a sense that rituals had taken place.

As foreign as this atmosphere was, it felt strangely familiar. Like I had been in a different room that had this . . .ancient aura. My eyes saw a bed, modern conveniences (clock, stereo, C.D.'s, etc.) but my other five senses gave me a different image. Desert sand . . .an aged temple, chants and prayers to endangered (Ref. 1.) Gods and Goddesses. . .

I went into this room to borrow a book while I waited. This room was different, like I mentioned. You couldn't JUST walk in and out of this room without being trapped in it's veil.

"Ryou?" I jumped, meeting Malik's confused gaze. "Are you all right? You were just standing there."

I slowly nodded, just now coming out of my daze.

Wrapped around Malik's waist is a towel, barely clinging. His back is against the wall, hiding the burden of the scriptures. Malik is naturally immodest. If Isis wasn't there with her authority, her brother would go outside in. . . well. . .nothing.

One thing he won't bare is his back. Not even to his sister. Isis told me that it was a painful experience when he got those scars. Both mentally and physically.

"Don't look." He orders before turning his back to me.

I look away while he shuffles some clothes from his closet and drops them on his bed. When he says I can look I lift my head from the comfort of the pillows.

"What should I wear?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Who are you dressing up for?"

"My date," he says vaguely.

My interest sparks. "What's she like?"

Malik pokes through his clothes. "Long silvery hair, deep brown eyes-now that I think about it. . ." He cocks his head to the side. You resemble her . . .the spittin' image. Except, she has a HUGE rack."

I shift around uneasily. This could be it. Malik is going to realize I'm the 'girl' at the racetrack and then. .. I don't know what! A throaty laugh and total humiliation? Or a dead, dead, Ryou? My head gracing the Ishtar house's trophy wall, right next to a stuffed moose. Don't want that, Mooses are scary.

"Wouldn't it be funny if YOU crossdressed and turned out to be that girl?" He laughs. I do the same, nervously.

Time to leave. Remain here longer and I'll be found out. I get off the bed. "I have to go get groceries. Bye." All this I said in a rush.

"Wait! You didn' t pick an outfit."

I don't bother to pick an outfit or pause at the door, I'm so scared that I rush out of the house. . .

Groceries in my arms, I arrive home. Bakura is lounging on the couch, watching T.V. Bottles of sake are nearby, the stench of alcohol is strong. From experience, I know not to bother him or say anything to my dark. I quietly unbag groceries, surprised that he says nothing even when I go upstairs.

I'm beginning to reconsider going on that date. Not only is there that possibility that Malik knows, my conscious is telling me I'm letting my desires get out of hand.

I stop at Amane's room. Shadows' casting upon shadows and cool air floating along . . .not that it was any different when my sister was alive. I just find it creepy to see the lights always off, the lack the human presence. Complete vacancy.

"Forget it, Ryou," I tell myself. "No more deception." And I walked away from the room, making sure I entered mine. I'd sleep the rest of the day. That way, I won't be tempted to go on that date.

Things weren't that easy. The numbers on my clock blinked in my face, I was itchy all over and I think there was a leaky facet in the bathroom. Then there was also the fact I wasn't sleepy.

"Nyooo." A drawled-out meow made me get up.

"Cunie?"

"Nyoooooo!!!" the calico cried. Her meows were from a nearby room. I shuffled out, following the cat calls to my sister's room. (Coincidence?)

"Nyooo!!!"

"Cunie?" A cautious question. Maybe she wasn't in that room?

"Nyo! Nyoooo!!!"

Okay . . .she IS in there. I took a big gulp before entering. Coldness and the scent of vanilla washed over me.

"Nyooo!!!" It's coming from the closet.

"How'd you get up there?" I opened the closet and spread my arms out. "Jump!"

With that, the calico leapt from the closet, landing in my arms. I set her down. Now that I was in here temptation was gnawing harder at me. And winning.

In the closet were Amane's clothes, colors ranging from bloody red to midnight black: the only colors she would wear after mother died.

I chose the outfit that seemed less Goth than the others. A short black dress with a little bit of a frill. Next to it was a pair of black wings with flicks of red between velvet feather (I took that too).

"Just this one time. I'll go."

"Gah! Hurry Ryou! Hurry!" Rain was pouring in all directions like a monsoon. I had no umbrella and was left to soak while I charged to 'Pwee?!' the beef bowl restaurant. The restaurant lights were bright, and the steam rising from the bowl of noodles seemed to so warm and inviting. That'd be nice to have . . .a warm beef bowl to drive the chill out of you. Beef bowl restaurants aren't fancy, but they are cheap and on a rainy day like this, they warm the body up

Don't beef bowls HAVE meat in them? Now that I think about it, isn't Malik vegetarian? So why is our dat here, in a place that serves bowls of noodles with chunks of meat inside?

"Konnichiwa!" A petite hand waves in my face. I look down at Yugi, his tri-colored hair hidden by his umbrella.

"Hi. . ."

"How was the date?"

I tell him it hasn't started yet.

"Oh . . ." he says, disappointed, then take a long look at the pair of black and red feather wings on my back. "Nice wings . . .are you cosplaying?"

I sweatdrop, "No, I wore these because I thought they were cute."

"They are." Yugi checks the time, his eyes widen briefly. "I have to go!" And he runs off under the small shelter of his umbrella.

I wait another fifteen minutes outside the restaurant under the overhang. The black dress I'm wearing is halfway dry, but I still have that sticky feeling on my skin.

The clock tells me Malik is an hour late. Doesn't surprise me, he can be easily distracted. Oh well, I'll just wait thirty more minutes inside the beef bowl place.

Which I'm about to do. I push on the door, the tinkling of bells welcoming me. I take another glance at the sidewalk, in case Malik has arrived. The sidewalk is bare of his presence. All I see is a couple making out and a drunk ambling down the street.

I sigh and look the other way. Perhaps he went the long way. No. . . no sign of tan skin and layers of dirty blonde hair. There's only a cat and-wait! There he is!

I pull myself from the doorway and bound towards him, completely ignoring the pouring rain.

-No characters were harmed (physically) in the making of this fanfic. Tat is not responsible for mental breakdowns.-

A/N: Okay! I haven't done this in a while. I'm having a small contest. You know how Malik called his motorcycle, "KOS-MOS" well it's a character from a series. Figure out where this character came from and you gets a special prize.

Good lucks!

Ref 1.- what I means by endangered Gods and Goddesses is that their follower's faith in them is slowly dying. Which means, they are slowing fading away. (I hope you get that)


	5. Stargazer

A/N: I am sorry for the dreadfully long wait. I will try to write more chappies. Depends on how lazy my muse is . . .

To all who read and reviewed . . .Danke! For all that did read but did not review . . .Danke fur die Blummen! (German is getting rusty) I really would appreciate reviews, especially if they give me suggestions on what I could work on for my writing. I have determined the winner for the previous contest and will post who won and what they won.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!

For you, I would Crossdress

By Tat Claire Kokoro

Chap. 5 Stargazer

__

/A dog howls, the moon rises

In darkness, the stars pierce forever

A rooster crows, the sun rises

In daylight, it's as if the stars never existed/

-"The Bonsetter's Daughter", Amy Tan

The water doesn't daunt his skin like mine, it enhances it. It makes his tan a sleek look. Rain drips from his tresse,and if it were storming his eyes would match so perfectly with the purple sky and his sister clouds.

He doesn't hate, feel uncomfortable or seems like he cares that he's wet. It's more like he embraces the water's nature. The rain is a part of him. Just as the sweltering sun beating against the sand is a part of him.

"Gomen, I got distracted."

He reaches a hand out and pokes my wings. "You look cute . . .are you cosplaying?"

I smile when he tells me 'I'm cute', but my face faults from the cosplaying comment. "No, I'm not cosplaying."

The tanned one shrugged. "Good choice of outfit, especially since it'll match where we're going."

I raised my head curiously. "Where?"

..

Heights . . .I have a fear of them. A fear dating back to when I was a child. Children, being confused and scared of the New World are naturally going to have nightmare. Many of them.

The most common are the ones of drowning, being lost, or in my case, falling. And where does one usually fall from? A high place, away from the ground.

So long as I stay away from high places I can't fall. Logical, ne?

Of course, with Malik, I can't avoid my fears. He's fascinated with heights, horrors, anything that will make my stomach flop.

When we reached the museum, the one Isis works at (and recently) owns, I thought we were simply going in. I was confused when he grabbed my hand before I could open the door. Wasn't this where we were headed?

He tugs on my arm, gently, and I limply follow him, or rather, he leads me to a ladder. "Ladies first", he offers.

I don't want to climb up, but strangely, I do as told. There's something about Malik that makes me want to obey him. I'm guessing it's his charm.

Then there's another ladder, like the first one. Malik urges me on, and like the first time, I blindly obey his charisma.

Finally we reach the top, the roof. This time the Egyptian wonder tells me to stay put as he scuttles to the top. A hand is held out to me. Before I take it, I gaze at the pavement below. One slip and my bloody mess of organs will be on it. Thank the goddess I don't fall. I am safe. ..For now. And the sidewalk is left without a corpse . . .for now.

There is nothing but the moon and city lights around us. The stars don't exist to city dwellers. Sure, we hear or learn about them or see them . . .in movies. That's all. We've never actually gone outside to stare at the constellations or nebulas, and if we actually do, we don't see anything. Only the bright lights of our Earth.

Malik stares at the nighttime sky. He stares forever, squinting his eyes and whatnot. He hopes he can find even a scratch of star, a bright dot in the sky bursting with helium. He shakes his head, blond strands trailing along gently, and sighs.

"I wish I could turn it all off", Malik says, more to himself than me.

"The lights?"

"Yeah."

"Oh, you want to turn the city off?"

"More than the city?"

"Japan?" I meekly guess.

"No. .. I want to turn the whole world off. No lights, no television, nothing."

"Why? What's wrong with technology?"

"I'm not against it", he says. "It's just . . .I wish humans wouldn't rely on it. I'd like it if w decided to call it a day and turn off the lights. Ya know, instead of resisting the night, so we can see the stars."

I'm surprised at how philosophic he is. Malik is normally hyperactiveinsane. I wouldn't thing he would take the time to watch the stars.

I flex my left hand, just a little. There's a light, warm comfort lightly grasping it. This comfort squeezes back. "In the beginning, humans had everything, soon we'll have nothing."

I take a moment to close my eyes, straining to understand what he means, "what does that mean?"

Malik stares at the starless sky again. "I don't know, I just started talking."

I tilt my head upward. Now I'm beginning to copy off Malik. I'm fixing my eyes on a dark sky, a night with no star. Suddenly I feel something. There's a prick a prickly feeling running along my stiffening back I can feel my eyes widening at the familiar sensation, a sensation I wish I never felt.

All the senses in my brain and my body are tingling and things are starting to move in slow motion. I want to turn around, but I'm afraid I'll see something or rather, _someone_.

Curiosity wins me over. I look behind us. What I see is what (didn't want to but) suspected. A shady figure of a gray color is standing close to Malik. Even though I can't see it's face, I can sense the figure watching Malik in a tender, affectionate manner. Then I suppose it noticed me. It turns it's head in my direction and all my feelings blur together. Pain, happiness . . .sadness . . .pleasure . . . All are swirling inside, as if in a blender. Malik is squeezing my hand, saying something, but my mind and hearing is so garbled up I can't make out a syllable. Finally I force myself to look away. Slowly the mixed feelings from the shaded figure flow from consciousness.

"Are you listening?" Malik asks for (I'm guessing) the third time.

"What?" I ask with a drunken sounding lilt in my voice.

"I never got your name.

"Oh . . . I rub my back, trying to rid myself of the weird feeling. Of course it won't work. It seems that shaded figure is going to stay awhile. "Um . . .it's Amaya."

He gives a slight smile. "That means, 'Night Rain', right?"

I nod. I'm about to ask him about that thing hovering behind him when his cellophane rings. Which is fortunate since he may think I'm crazy if I tell him.

He answers it and after a few, yes's, nos and a annoyed groan he finishes with a 'fine! I'm coming . . .I'm coming . . ." He hangs it up. "I've gotta go. Do you want me to walk you home?

"No thanks. I'll be fin."

"Are you sure? I don't want anything to happen to you."

Soft red rises to my cheeks when he says this. "Really . . .I'm fine," I shyly murmur.

The dirty blonde's hand is quietly slipping from mine. As is does, I lose the comforting warmth from his hand. I don't want to let go. I don't want to be alone. Without a thought my grip tightens. He can tell by the needy look in my eyes that I don't want him to leave.

"Tomorrow at . . ." he pause a moment, "the museum?"

"Okay." I halfway accept his leave. I know we'll meet tomorrow but it's not enough. I want someone to be with, to keep company with me. Maybe this is why I'm attracted to him despite his wild nature. I'm hoping he would combat my loneliness.

I reluctantly let him go, expecting him to leave. Except he takes the time to lean close to my face . . . Our lips linger inches apart, then I suppose he second guesses himself and kisses my cheek instead.

When he leaves I touch my cheek, feeling the warmth around me . . .partly from the almost-kiss and from the gray spirit that was around.

It stares again at me, the prick, prick on my back and the gray figure's feeling flowing back. After our small staring contest the spirit walks away, trailing after Malik, leaving a faint sound of slipper like shoes shuffling.

The warmth from the spirit tells me it's not hostile. So I'm not worried for Malik, I'm just curious to know if he knows and why he has a ghost following him.

-No characters were harmed (physically in the making of this fic. Tat is not responsible for any mental breakdowns.-

..

Preview of next chapter: /_Amane would chatter to the spirits while cooking, cleaning . . .everything. She communicated with ghosts more than she did the living./_


	6. The Bridge of Dreams

Thanks to: Soul Dreamer, R Amythest, optimistic girl94, yukii, Amy Hirosaki, Malfoy's Kitten, IMPROVED Uber Rei Model 06, Carmen 5-Nemrac, Tyy, v son saiyan, Kage Amira.  
  
A/N: A lots of you crazies asked me about all neat twists and turns this fic is beginning to take. Some of you may be confused at the sudden change of atmosphere. I will answer some questions and reveal one thing that will happen.  
  
First, I'm going to tell you about the sudden change of atmosphere/the side plot. When I started this fic it was going to be a gushy romance, then Amane came into play and that's where all the supernatural stuff is permeating from . . . So from this point on I declare this fic to be romance/supernatural. There will be some more humor but I'm afraid that if I put in too much it will ruin the story, that and I'm REALLY trying to end my Yu-Gi-Oh! Phase of writing with a KABOOM!!!  
  
Lots of people are asking me, "I know who the ghost is!" "Who the hell is that ghost stalking Malik!?" Or, "Why aren't you kissing my as- anus!?" Peoples, you are most likely going to be surprised on who the ghost is, so if you want to play "Guess the Ghost" feel free to do so. If you'd like I may make it a contest. All the stuff, as confusing as it might be, will come together soon. If anyone is confuzzled tell me. I WILL reveal one thing. Later on in the story Malik will get hurt really badly. My lips are sealed on how and when.  
  
CONTEST WINNER: The grand prize winner is Bishonenz Angel. You win a one-shot fic centered on your character of choice.  
The answer to the contest was, "Xenosaga". Which has a hot android babe, Kos Mos as a main character. If you didn't win this contest, don't fret. I have a few more on the way.  
  
DISCLAIMER: I still don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

For you, I would Crossdress  
  
By Tat Claire Kokoro  
  
Chap. 6 Bridge of Dreams  
  
/Today when the summer thrush Came to sing at Heron's Nest I crossed the Bridge of Dreams/  
  
- (I forgot who wrote it. All I know is that it's pretty and I don't hold any rights over it.)  
  
Since mom died I was able to see things people normally didn't see. My sister though saw ghosts all her life. They were as normal an occurrence as seeing living people . . .to her. Amane would chatter to the spirits while cooking, cleaning . . .everything. She communicated with ghosts more than she did the living.  
  
When I started to sense things it started out with my ears. Their talk was all over the house, so if I wanted to escape the voices... it wasn't possible. After the voices came the prick prick feelings on my back and soon all these senses combined and I saw what my sister did.  
  
It made me sick. This was what my sister was forced to see every day and night. Death. Now I understood why she adopted the dullest, saddest expression I ever saw. The way the ghosts made me sick had nothing to do with their appearance. They weren't natural; it didn't matter if the prick prick running down my spine was from a peaceful, violent, or gruesome ghost. I still wanted to shut my eyes and pray to God or Goddess . . .whatever powers that be above. I prayed to not see, to not hear, and to not speak to the ghosts.  
  
Usually when it came to this, when I began praying with sobs in between, my sister would pick me up. "Why are you crying, Ryou-chan? It is perfectly natural, very common to see spirits." Then I would cry louder, disappointed, but mostly angry that Amane didn't understand.  
  
I nibble on my lip, my hands held snug in my pockets (I changed into male clothing, the bag from where I bought the clothing swinging around my arm, holding the black dress and wings). I flinched under the harsh darkness, it was once in the morning, the streets weren't a safe place to be at this time. I'm also thinking about the ghost I felt tonight. It'd been so long since I saw or sensed the presence of any ghosts. After Amane passed away, I, in fear of seeing her as a ghost, forced myself to ignore the presence's lurking around. Many months later I succeeded. My link to that awful world torn away. I planned on keeping it that way.  
  
Unfortunately, I'm hooked back up to that world. But what could have caused me to see things again? Did the spirit stalking Malik have such strong 'unfinished business' that I couldn't help but notice it? Whatever the reason, I'm slightly distressed but mostly angry because I can see past the River, Styx . . . again.  
  
I stop in front of an alleyway and sigh. This is the only way to my house. Hopefully, I don't run into a gang or a supernatural creature through here. That would be too cliché . . .and not very fun.  
  
Relief washes over me when I see the familiar face of my neighbor, Yumi, who is walking in my direction. Her expression is bright, on the verge of glomping me, but she calmly holds back. "Hey, how's it been?" She asks, sweetly smiling.  
  
"Um. ..Fine."  
  
She walks closer to me, "It's strange. We're neighbors, yet we haven't seen each other in forever." She suddenly, and without any awkwardness, leans on me. Her breath lingers on my neck, demanding a similar reaction from me. A minute passes with no response to her flirting. Agitated, she presses her lips against my cheek.  
  
"Yumi-san, I enjoy being your friend . . ."  
  
She pulls away, but not before pressing her nails into my sensitive skin. Yumi glares, her slanted eyes shrinking to the point that they are slits. With feral grace she walks past me, trying to regain her composure, her pride. I watch her leave in this state, absentmindedly looking up and down her body, then nearly jump from what I saw.  
  
A foxtail waving from under her skirt. "Kitsune-tsuki ("possessed by a fox"). . ." I whisper under my breath.  
  
Yumi comes to a halt. Obviously she heard me. Foxes have great hearing. A wicked smile plays on her lips as she walks towards me, her arms outstretched.  
  
" 'Behold! His hair shines like that of the moon, silver and is as starched as corn. He hunches his back, only able to see his aged feet seeping into the dust . . .' And they laughed, they mocked their God of creation and light . . ."  
  
My mind began to wake hearing the beginning of this tale. I tried my best to pick up more words, to know who was telling the story. Their voice was familiar, foreign, and lush. But their tone was serious, demanding me to understand the story when it would come to its end. With my half awake mind, I took in portions of the story as they were whispered in my ear . . .  
  
". . .Ra of course was furious at the humans. He helped their crops rise, he kept them from growing cold, and he created them! Yet the beings he helped were selfish and rude towards him . . ."  
  
. . .I crossed the Bridge of Dreams. . ."  
  
" ' They have took me for granted.' Ra muttered, he knew the humans deserved punishment, but one not so harsh. He still pitied them. Nun told him he should smite them all. Ra would shake his head, 'no, it's inhumane.'  
  
" Still, Nun pestered him, assuring him the humans would quickly beg for mercy when the true suffering hadn't yet fallen upon them. Ra sighed, not wanting to do it with his own hands he asked Sekhmet. And so, she descended with her lion headed mask . . ."  
..

/_There was light, then the sky grew dark. Everyone stopped what he or she was doing (or who they were doing). The silver-tongued bargainers closed their mouths. The women, so seductive, quit their flirting too. Even the blind man looked up at the vacant sun, at the oncoming darkness./  
  
_"Sekhmet took the lives o the sick and elderly first. She pitied humans too, and decided to kill the ones whose pain was too great . . ."  
  
/_Screams erupted throughout the city and beyond the Nile. My hear skipped a beat. Nepthys' veil (or illusion) draped in front of me. Unaware of what happening, I wondered if I would be among those screaming. That fear evaporated with an abrupt silence. I told myself it was just a tomb robber, receiving punishment. The screams being women observing and the tomb robber himself./  
_  
"But Sekhmet found the blood intoxicating. The smell, the taste, the way it fell from the victims' veins was amazing. And she soon found herself immersed in the red liquid, searching for more . . ."  
_  
/I shrugged and went back to what I was doing. I walked on the way to the temple, planning to give my offerings and bore the Gods and myself with my prayers. This way, an everyday task to start the morning, yet as ordinary as it was, I was nervous. The screams I heard minutes ago were nagging at me.  
  
I kept shaking my head to rid the thoughts, instead I would end up with my hair in my eyes. More dread started to fill my head. Thoughts like, 'don't go that way! It's dangerous!' or 'hide!' spun around my head and badgered me.  
  
Still, I kept going. I was just being paranoid. A trait I have carried since my childhood. I took another step, then stopped when I heard a soft splash and felt a wet, sticky feeling envelope, my foot. I cautiously looked down at what I stepped in. All I could see was a red puddle, swallowing my foot. Ahead of me was more of the familiar fluid, and it's owners all sprawled across the street. Most of them dead, some halfway there, the remaining still awaiting the fate of death. I gulped. In the back of my mind I knew this was my undeniable fate.  
  
Humans, of course, will do anything to survive, despite the fact that death is right in front of them, waiting. I held back my set of screams and turned heel, running so fast my heart could barely keep up. The cries of people rang in my ears again and became louder and closer. My curiosity told me to look behind me, and without a thought, I did look. That's when I stopped.  
  
Before I could focus on the chaos surrounding me, I felt a chill down my spine. Suddenly, a great force slammed my fragile, mortal body to the sands. I could feel it's claws digging into my throat, it's saliva sliding down my cheek, and it's eyes boring a hole into my soul. Scared, I opened my eyes to see a lioness on top of me. She gave a proud roar, and then stared at me, a smile seemed to play on her mouth, faintly revealing lethal fangs stained with blood.  
  
The lioness raised her head, which turned into a mask and the rest of her body human. Without haste, she lifted the mask from her head, revealing lapis lazuli colored hair reaching past her shoulders. Her hair framed her oval face and almost hid her outlandish eyes. Which was a deep blue, with flecks of gold around the pupil. It faintly reminded me of the sun against a blue sky.  
  
I was all at once dazzled, and frightened. I quivered under her weight, under her sweaty body, and under the influence of an adrenaline rush. I knew who she was, but I couldn't bring up the courage to utter her name or anything else. She drew her face close to mine and smirked. Her breath stank of copper.  
  
I watched her carefully, trying to hatch a spur of the moment scheme for escape. At the same time I surrendered, you can't deny the fate a God decides to give you. When her hands wrapped around my throat, I closed my eyes and fully surrendered./  
_  
  
My eyes snap open and my body jumps. I wake up to my thundering heart and sweat coating my body. I take a deep breath, regaining my calm. I fall into the soft, creamy sheets, then realize I'm not in my bed and certainly not in my room.  
  
I note the covers are a lavender shade contrasting with silver and the pillows the fluffiest I've ever felt-like a cloud. The room itself is foreign to me, it feels ancient and smells like . . .Malik.  
  
I slip out of his bed, my eyes wander around, investigating my surroundings. I glance at the curtains, noticing a pile of rubble. Before I snoop I look back at the door, asking myself if this is wrong. Well . . .yes, it is but I've been doing things I shouldn't lately.  
  
I bend over, pulling the curtain away from the pile, which is actually an old, miniature alter, cast away and vandalized. The head of the goddess Isis is missing from her body. I reach my hand to pick it up-.  
  
"Don't." Malik creeps up behind me, his voice makes me jump and I immediately stop what I'm doing.  
  
"Why-." I mouth.  
  
Malik turns away, coughs, and quickly changes the subject, "What happened to you in the alleyway?"  
  
"What do you mean?!" I blurt out, then suddenly remember my encounter with Yumi.  
  
"I found you collapsed in the middle of the alleyway surrounded by foxes." His violet eyes flash over me, "when I shooed them away, I checked your pockets. Your wallet is missing."  
  
My hand fumbles through my pockets, Malik was right . . .that I was robbed. "Did you see a bag with clothes in it?"  
  
He shakes his head, "No. What's more important is your wallet. Did you have anything important in it? Credit cards or Identification?" I tell him no, only money. What I don't tell him is I DID actually loose something valuable. My sister's clothes were in that bag.  
  
I look at the calendar. My eyes widen when I realize the date: April 6th. "What time is it?" I ask.  
  
"Noon, I think." He shrugs, "Why?"  
  
I run out of his room, looking for the only clock in the house. The clock in Isis' room blinks out the numbers 1:30 p.m. Malik catches up with me, "what's wrong?"  
  
"I'm late for work."  
  
-No characters were harmed (physically) in the making of this fic. Tat is not responsible for any mental breakdowns.-

End Note- The myth Malik was telling Ryou was tweaked a bit by me. If you are mad at me for adapting it in the way I view it I'm sorries. If you flame me for this or anything else I won't care. It's still a review.

This chappie may be different than the other ones due to the fact I had to switch betas. My old beta no longer associates with any samesexromancefanfictions for religious reasons. Tell me if there were any grammar errors.  
  
Preview of Next chapter: /I smiled at the child, then looked ahead at the accident. In the middle of the street was a limp corpse of a young girl, a car towering over her. The girl in the accident was the same girl standing right beside me . . ./


	7. Truth

A/N: I have rid this fic and my others of the script format I know and love. From now on I'll be using Author Notes to state my own opinions of this fic. Here's my opinion of this chapter: I sucks! I despise the dullness and I want to leap at the action! But sadly, I'll have to restrain myself for a two or three chapters. Until then, you'll have to wait for the "first kiss" and such.

My updates will also get a little slower since I'm currently writing a "Kingdom Hearts" fic. Vanir has been whacking my skull to no end and promises to do so until I finish this and the "Kingdom Hearts" fic. Ah. . .I love my muse. He's so hot. . .

Also, I may start a web "writing journal".

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh!

For you, I would Crossdress

By Tat Claire Kokoro

Chap. 7 Truth

/_Far beyond he hazy border of my heart_

I could see a place that's something like this

Every now and then I don't know what to do

Still I know that I can never go back/

-Real Emotion (Final Fantasy 10:2)

Malik insisted that he drive me on his motorcycle to my job. I told him I'd be fine. It wasn't far and I wouldn't be in trouble for being late, my boss is very lenient. Both were lies.

I ended up successfully persuading Malik to not trouble himself with my small problems. I tried my best to run at a brisk pace. Unfortunately, all that time spent reading instead of participating in P.E. made me turn up an hour late.

My boss, a former (lesserknown) sumo wrestler, glared at me. "How many times are you going to be late?"

I had never been late to this job before, but the way my boss worded it made it sound like this was more than my first time. I looked at the ground, avoiding his dirty looks. One will naturally fear 'The Boss'. In my case it was worse since it didn't help that he was bigger than I. "Takahashi-san, I'm sorry for being late. It won't happen again. If I can be of any help-or if you'd like I could work extra today to make up for the hour I missed." He grunts, a sign of approval and saunters away. I bite my lip and go into the dressing room to change.

"One orange sherbert!" Yugi chirped.

I dig into the freezer box, "How did you know I work here?"

"I overheard some girls at school, squealing about the bishie who works at Baskin Robins' Ice-cream."

I sigh, "Figures."

"How was the date?" He asks, his real reason for being here.

I hand him his ice cream, "It was nice."

Yugi stares at me, a smirk on his face. "It had to be more than nice. What did you do?" I don't answer, he pouts and cocks his head to the side, "Aw, come on. It's not like you did something naughty-ah! That's it!"

A blush graces my cheeks, although nothing 'naughty' happened, I still want to change the subject. "You didn't used to talk like this. . .you've changed in the last two years."

"You think? I think you've changed! You used to be really quiet. Now, you've got the gang and me as your friends and you talk a lot more. You even have Bakura under control."

I pause at the comment about me being friends with his. He doesn't even notice how they act towards me. The real truth is, they disapprove, reject me. "I don't 'control' Bakura. We get along -sort of- these days."

Yugi opens his mouth to speak, but my boss interrupts with a loud cough. "You're not here to chatter." he growls.

I bow in apology, then turn back to Yugi. "Gomen."

Yugi shakes his head and hands me the money for his ice cream. "It's okay. I'll come by later."

"Why later?"

"We're going shopping!" He chirps.

I didn't really want to go shopping. It was easy to guess what Yugi would want me to buy. (Girl's clothes.) I closed up shop (Takahashi-san entrusted me with the keys) and waited by the shop for Yugi.

It was six p.m., not even dark yet. Children were still out, soaking up the remainder of the day before their parents beckoned them back inside the safety of their homes. At this part of the day, cars and traffic were a rare occurrence, so it wasn't uncommon to see kids playing in the middle of the street. Still, even with the lack of cars, it was dangerous. The mothers knew this and made it known to the children that it wasn't safe by occasionally coming out of the house and scolding both their own children and everyone else's.

I try to conjure up memories of my mother scolding me. But I don't remember her voice taking on a threatening tone. What I recall is a young woman's voice soaring high and low, telling me a story to lull me to The Bridge of Dreams.

The stories were mainly about the cunning fox or the heinous badger and other tricksters. The fox was the main focus of her stories.

I don't remember her face, only her hair, which I inherited from her. Except mom's was softer than mine and glistened like it really was made out of silvery threads. When I was barely two I liked to yank at it, when I was older I caressed it and hid behind her veil of hair. But the memory that means the most to me is the sound of her voice while telling me a story and the stories themselves.

A boy yelling interrupts my thoughts, "Get out of the way!" I hear the pitter-patter of a young girl's delicate steps towards me and the screech of tires. "Made it!" I hear a girl's voice cheer. I smiled at the child, then looked ahead at the accident. In the middle of the street was a limp corpse of a young girl, a car towering over her. The girl in the accident was the same girl standing right beside me.

I move away from the ghost version of the girl, watching her yell back at the boy that she's okay. When she notices him not paying attention to her but the accident she pauses, registering the fact that she's dead. She denies it and runs to her lifeless body, trying to enter it, but feels it push her way. There is already a barrier between her body and soul. She shakes her head wildly, crying and again trying to renter her body only to be rejected by it.

"What happened?" Yugi walks up to me and looks at the accident.

"A girl was run over by a car." I say and flinch when the girl cries out upon hearing my words. Nobody else hears her, because of this I frown.

"Are you all right?"

I fake smile, "yeah."

"Well . . .let's go." Yugi stares at the incident then walk in the opposite direction.

I follow, then stop and look back at the girl, who is now trying helplessly to get her parents' attention. I bite my lip, the realization of death is not a happy thing to go through.

"This, and this and. . .this!" Yugi drops a truckload of clothes (women's clothes) in my arm.

I stare at the heap, "I don't really plan on making the whole crossdress thing a permanent part of my life. . ."

"You're not serious with Malik?" A surprisedexpresion crosses his face, "You're both dating other people on the side?"

"No. It's. . .well. . .I'm going to tell him the truth tonight."

"Why?"

"I love Malik, I want nothing but to be with him. However, this whole lying for love. . .it's not what I was taught."

"Just tell him the truth after he falls for the 'female' Ryou." Yugi says.

I shake my head and follow him as he goes into another section of the store,"That's still not right. I'm telling him the truth tonight."

"And if he leaves you?"

"I let him go and live the ret of my life with a vow of chastity."

"It's not going to be the end of the world if you don't have him."

"Then you've never fallen in love."

Yugi's smile falters and he walks to the cash register and motions for me to come over there with the load of clothes.

"I guess I'm paying for this. . ." I sigh.

"No. I'm paying."

"But-." I try to talk him out of it but he pushes away and pays. "I'll have to pay you back." I start to dig into my pockets (even though I lost my wallet) again he stops me.

"The only payment you have to give me is be happy."

"Uh. . .what?"

He gives a kind smile, the one he is known for, "repay by being happy."

"But. . ."

"Don't even think about it."

I give into him, "Okay. I'll be happy."

After making a quick stop at home and saying goodbye to Yugi I head towards the museum. The night has already made its rounds, banishing the light, allowing only the moon and the city lights to shine. My legs start to ache halfway through, so I take a break and smooth down my dress. As I start to catch my breath, I recall Yugi's words: _"And if he leaves you?"_

The thought, or feeling that this will happen makes my eyes water. I tilt my head back to keep them from flowing down my cheeks. The result is I squeeze my eyes in pain while the salt coats my eyes. When I'm sure I've rid of the tears I force myself to smile.

"Don't worry, it'll be all right." A boy my age approaches me. I back myself away from him, for part of his ear is cut off. It's a fresh wound, I can tell from the blood pouring out. Not only that, but the rest of his body beat is up. His left hand is broken, the bone poking out of the skin and scars dot his body, along with fresh cuts, which will also become scars.

He cocks his head to the side and comes closer to me, offering his hand to comfort my fear of him. I shake me head, back away, and speed off.

I look back, to see if he's chasing me and I'm glad to know that he's still in the same spot, watching me but not following me.

The rest of the way to the museum I look at the ground or the signs leading me along. Avoiding people, dead or alive. I shut their voices from my mind, ignoring the chatter of teenage girls and the wail of one whose lost their life.

"Hey!" Malik's voice calls out to me, I watch him walk on the roof of the museum like a cat. Fearless and possessing more grace than any (other) human. He stares down at me, I'm no more than a speck of dust to him, yet he invites me to bask in his presence. It's imminent that if I tell him the truth he will strike down my heart.

"Hi." I say uneasily.

"Come up here."

"I can't. Heights . . .are not my thing."

He smiles. "You came up here last time."

"You helped me climb."

"Just don't look down." He says.

I give a defeated sigh and proceed climbing my way to the rooftops. The first two to three steps don't bother me at all, it's the one's after that that make me nervous. My heart pounds at my chest, pleading, begging for me to stop climbing up. Meanwhile curiosity tells me to look down.

I squeeze my eyes shut and despite what my senses tell me, continue. I reach my hand out for another bar to hold, except I find nothing to grasp. I helplessly look at the edge I'm supposed to heft my weight on, then stupidly look down. Down . . .

Everything feels shaky, the ground seems so far away and yet so close. My fingers loosen on the ladder and my feet go numb. Small warmth grasps my hand and pulls me up. Groggily, I snap out of my paranoia.

"Told you not to look down." Malik says with a smug expression.

"It's easy for you. You're not afraid of anything."

Malik watches me closely, and seems annoyed by my comment. "That's not true. I have just as many fears as you do. The only difference in us is, I face mine."

I'm silent, aware of the truth yet avoiding it. Why is every single thing twisting and pulling at my emotions? I have to choose the truth over my wants. It will hurt me. It will kill me. But it's the 'right thing' to do.

I open my mouth to speak, straining my voice, "Malik . . ."

His violet eyes watch me attentively, "yes?"

-No characters were harmed (physically) in this fanfiction. Tat is not responsible for any mental breakdowns-


End file.
